Oscar Peterson Trio: At The Stratford Shakespearean Festival (Valentine Records 896705)
That’s Ontario, not On Avon of course. In a previous column I mentioned that the first gig I ever went to was by Peterson and I was knocked out, as we said in those days, and have been a fan ever since. In fact, I was a fan before that on the basis of his excellent 1952 recording of Tenderly which I had heard on the radio. It wasn’t available in Britain at the time but I found a second-hand copy of an EP and wore it out even further. I still love it, not least when you hear the big OP say “I thank you” as the audience recognises the tune and congratulates itself for doing so.
This live recording dates from August 1956 and features bassist Ray Brown and Herb Ellis on guitar, superseding Barney Kessel. What is there to say other than “Wow!”? There’s plenty of stunning high-speed pianistics (Brown and Ellis keeping pace apparently effortlessly) but there is also some more relaxed and measured playing, including a ravishingly beautiful version of Flamingo, plus some of Peterson’s characteristic musical dry humour, including a touch of Bach pastiche at the end of Gypsy In My Soul. Throughout, regardless of tempo and harmonic complexity, the interaction of the trio members is highly impressive, and Ellis and Brown take some superb solos.
This 180-gram vinyl LP, with Peterson’s original cover notes, is being released as a “Centennial Edition” commemorating the 100th anniversary of his birth and only 500 copies are being pressed, so you’d better hurry.
Charlie Mingus: Pithecanthropus Erectus (Jazz Wax Records JWR 4641)
I first heard this album early on in my discovery of jazz and found parts of it an uncomfortable listen despite the presence of one of my favourite alto players, Jackie McLean. I guess it was my loss. In their Penguin Guide To Jazz, Richard Cook and Brian Morton awarded it four stars and included it in their list of essential recordings. Although not one of my favourite Mingus albums it is undeniably a significant one. Most people agree that Mingus was pre-figuring free jazz, though he was not always impressed with how that movement developed. There are examples of those elements here, but for me the best moments come in Mingus’s orchestrations (excluding the rather silly traffic effects on Foggy Day) and solos by McLean and the under-rated J.R. Montrose. Fine work too from pianist Mal Waldron.
Despite my reservations this is a historically important album, both in respect of Mingus’s development and as an indicator of the evolution of jazz at the end of the 1950s. This limited-edition LP includes bonus performances of Love Chant and Foggy Day, recorded live two years earlier.
